Page 50 of Ripper
The streetlights started disappearing behind us as I sped down the winding streets, feeling the wind on my skin while I listened to the sound of my bike engine roar. I felt Ronnie’s nails digging into my chest just as we pulled up to the small, practically empty bar on the outskirts of the city. The place was rundown, with tattered windows, a large wooden sign, and paint chipping off the side of the front door.
From the first glance, it seemed like it was abandoned, left in the middle of nowhere with not a soul in sight, but the lights were on. The music thumped with a low bass, and it was still chock full of some lone bikers taking a pit stop on their way out of town. I pulled my bike in behind a tree and Ronnie stayed close behind me. We could smell the scent of cigarette smoke in the air, the pungent aroma of alcohol wafting through the open back door. I glanced over at Ronnie, who peered down at the building apprehensively.
“How are we supposed to get in there without any of them seeing us? How do you even know there’s weapons in there to begin with?”
“Oh, sweet pea, you’ve got a lot to learn about what it takes to keep the club afloat. Claymore came down here last night to scope the place out. He’s been keeping an eye on these riders for a day or so now and they always seem to come back here. He also saw that they had a few duffels full of stock that they’re trying to sell themselves. So, we’re gonna grab it and hope no one gets hurt.”
“So we’re going to steal the stuff they stole from someone else?”
“That’s about it, yes.”
“That sounds like a recipe for trouble.”
“Just about everything you’re going to do on your way to becoming a Rebel is a recipe for trouble, sweet pea. Sometimes, you just have to sit back and enjoy the ride. You trust me?” I asked, and she smiled.
“You know I do.”
“Then follow my lead.”
I pulled my gun out of my holster and we both approached the open back door. I peered in to see that everyone in there was drunk, fumbling all over themselves, and I knew we had the perfect opportunity. I pointed to the ground and Ronnie picked up on what I needed perfectly, grabbing a rock.
“I’m going around front to smash their window and get their attention. The last Claymore saw, they were stuffing the duffels behind the bar. Grab them and get on the bike. I’ll join you before shit gets crazy.”
“Ripper, are you sure? That’s one hell of a risk.”
“We do it right and it’ll work like a charm. Think you can handle it, sweet pea?”
She nodded at me and slipped the rock between my fingers. I grinned. I waited until she was safely hiding by the back door until I made my way around to the front, throwing the rock right through the front window that left a head-sized hole in it. Everything went quiet for a moment before the commotion started. I folded my hands across my chest, watching as just about every single one of those fuckers funneled out of the front door.
“The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Just wanted to see if anyone was in there. I ain’t here to cause too much trouble,” I said.
A burly, tall man with his long, black beard approached me. He spat at my feet, grinding his teeth like he couldn’t fucking wait to pummel me. It took him a minute to see the gun in my hand, and when I pointed it at him, he tried to grab it from me. The first shot went off without warning, and everyone started getting their weapons out, ready to blow my fucking head off. I hid behind a tree, watching the bullets whizz by, giving Ronnie just as much time as she needed to grab the shit so we could go.
I fired off some shots, hitting those drunk motherfuckers in their kneecaps because I wasn’t about to kill anyone if I didn’t have to. I started slowly making my way around back, and I caught sight of Ronnie standing there defenseless with the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. That burly motherfucker went straight for her, but I shot him on the leg before he could get his hands on her.
“Got it?”
“Yes. I got it.”
“Then we need to get the fuck out of here.”
We booked it, heading straight for where I parked the bike. Ronnie slipped, hitting her head on a rock, but I helped her up, seeing the blood start to trickle around her hairline.
“Ronnie!”
“I’m okay! It’s not bad. Come on!”
She wiped the blood from her forehead while we both got into the back of the bike. I heard the groaning and yelling growing closer, right as I started up the engine. I slipped my handgun into Ronnie’s hands.
“You’re gonna need this. Remember, don’t overthink. Point and shoot. It’s not like you’re gonna hit me this time,” I said.
I could practically see the adrenaline coursing through her as we took off down the dirt roads, just as two of the other bikes started getting closer. I glanced behind me for a second to see Ronnie fire off her first shot. It was a miss, but she managed to scare those motherfuckers enough to slow down. I took the opportunity to evade them, getting back out onto the main road, and just like that, we were gone like the motherfucking wind.
We made it back to the clubhouse just after one o’clock, hearing the thunder roar outside when I pulled the bike into the front yard. I heard the screen door slam, and out came Wrench ready to collect the goods. Ronnie handed them to him, and he smiled right before he got a good look at the crusting blood on her head.
“Ronnie? What happened?”
